


How can you be my father?

by Snyun1



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 09:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15883179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snyun1/pseuds/Snyun1
Summary: My own father rapes me.





	How can you be my father?

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually true and is still an ongoing problem for me. I haven’t told anyone about it and that’s why I’m writing this so that at least someone knows. I try to hide the pain but now there’s none and it’s just a part of my everyday life. It’s just normal.

He leaves the room not even sparing a second glance, not even helping clean up. All he does is turn the camera off after checking it and leaves, smiling, as he’s gotten what he wanted. You hear him pull his trousers, that he wears nearly everyday, back up and close the door. As you choke back the tears, you feel them finally roll down your cheeks, slowly yet at the same time a flood is released. Gasping for air desperately as you drown in the tears that you’ve wept more than once. you can’t help but have a mind full of thoughts. Why couldn’t it have been someone else? The Thoughts flash through your head quickly. I wish I didn’t have to endure this pain. Another one. Why my own father? And the most painful of all. I want to kill myself. I want to die. I don’t want to deal with life anymore.  
You stop. You let the quiet sobs fill the room and just stop. You’re mind is bare just like your body, naked on this bed as you’re covered in something much heavier, much more disgusting than the things he’s done to you. It’s the fear. The fear of what might happen if you try to stop it. The fear of what he might do if you confront him. The fear... of losing. Everything. By everything, you mean all that he’s done for you. All that he’s given you. And all that he’s risked for you.  
Maybe this is why he does these things to you. Because you owe him at least this much You think. But as you’re thinking these thoughts, you realise that that is not how a father expresses his love. By being a father, you love your child in a way that no one could. By always being by their side and caring for them as best as you can. But you know your father isn’t like that. He’s your father but he isn’t. He’s a monster. Someone who hides behind a mask trying to please everyone, thinking that what they are doing is all in justice and is totally right. He doesn’t deserve to be called your father. He isn’t your father. He isn’t shit.

Once the flood has cleared and your eyes are drained of tears, you walk quietly to the shower, before that, checking if he’s fallen asleep. He has. He doesn’t even care, you think as you watch him sleeping, as if nothing even happened. The taps in the shower turn, adjusting to just the right temperature. Your mind is still foggy and you just stand there. It’s been 10 minutes and you’re still just standing there. Your legs wobble and you feel your eyes start to fill with that familiar liquid. Finally, you break down. Falling to the ground your breathing is not breathing. It’s a gasp for life. You’re seeing is not seeing. It’s an unclear future. And your thoughts are not your thoughts. They are what you want. Your back against the cold tiles of the shower, the warm water still falling on your face. Maybe it would be best if I killed myself. You think that thought the 100th time.

My hiccups start turning into loud sobs and I can’t help but thinking that even if he can hear me right now, he wouldn’t care at all. I fell for his tricks time and time again growing up thinking that all of this was normal and that it was a thing to do between fathers and daughters. He manipulated me ever since I was 7 to think that he just loved me an extra bit more than other fathers do and that he wanted to show me that love. That love that he wanted to give me. Wanted to give and show me first before anyone else. Because “strangers” don’t deserve to be my first. They would be strangers to him but they weren’t strangers to me. He didn’t understand that. He’d rather steal my virginity all for himself than let me lose my virginity to someone I would, in my case, truly love. And he’d rather steal my virginity away from me at 8 years old. If that isn’t fatherly love, I don’t know what is. A vile creature like him was the reason I wanted to kill myself everyday. My own father. He’d treat me just like I was his daughter whenever someone else was around but right when we were alone it always happened. My words telling him to stop never come out of my mouth. That is how weak I am. And that is why I let this continue. Because I’m weak. Inside, I’m weak.


End file.
